


Just in Time for the Holidays

by ferix79



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Caught having Sex, Family, Jealosy, M/M, Original Character(s), Province Tans, State Tans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-11-26
Updated: 2010-11-26
Packaged: 2017-11-16 04:18:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/535410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ferix79/pseuds/ferix79
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>New York and Quebec prepare one of America's houses for a huge family gathering. Antics ensue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just in Time for the Holidays

**Author's Note:**

> They're boyfriends because I can.
> 
>  
> 
> [New York's Design](http://darkfire75.deviantart.com/art/New-York-profile-121874583)  
> [Quebec and also Ontario who was briefly mentioned](http://ctcsherry.deviantart.com/art/Provinces-Height-Chart-267860315)  
> Hasn't been edited since it was written in 2010. Please excuse any bad writing *hides*

Deep down, New York loved the holiday season, but he would never admit that to anyone else.   
  
No one needed to know, anyway, what good would it do them? Most of the other states would probably just taunt him for being a sentimental sap, so, no; he had no reason to tell anyone.   
  
Was he also secretly glad that he and Quebec would be stuck cleaning America's mansion in upstate New York before the rest of the family arrived for the holidays? Yes, he was, but not because he wanted to clean that huge house—the duty needed to be done, and America and Canada had shoved it on him and Quebec because they were the only ones free—but because it meant he and Quebec could spend time alone together in the middle of nowhere were  _no one_  would be there to bother them.   
  
He soon learned, however, that the province was not as thrilled. They met at the large home and exchanged pleasantries and hugs and a little kiss, but no more. After six months of being apart.   
  
Six  _months_.   
  
New York may have been a state, but he was also a man. And men had needs. Within an hour of being in the other man's company, he concluded that someone had misjudged Quebec when he was born and that the province was actually a girl, because he was certainly acting like one.   
  
After a whole day of minimal contact—and a night in which he tried to put an arm around Quebec, but the province rolled out of his reach—New York stalked into the kitchen and slammed is hands down on the counter, startling Quebec who had been tidying up the cupboards. He was tired of his boyfriend acting like a hormonal teenage girl.  
  
"Why are you acting so strange?" he demanded when the province whipped around to look at him.   
  
Quebec narrowed his eyes for a moment and then turned back to the open cupboard. "I have no idea what you mean."  
  
"Yes you do! Jean, if I know one thing about you, I know that you like to touch people," New York said, distraught at his partner's nonchalant attitude. He walked up behind Quebec and snaked his arms around the other man's waist, placing his head on Quebec's shoulder. "especially  _me_."   
  
With a strange calmness, Quebec placed the glass he had been holding back on the appropriate shelf, and New York frowned when the province did not respond. Right when he was about to let go, Quebec turned in his arms and shoved him sideways, pinning him easily against the counter.   
  
No words were exchanged and no explanations given, but New York stopped caring when Quebec smashed their lips together, the kiss soon becoming fierce with tongue and teeth. After nearly a full minute, Quebec pulled back and New York smiled at him when he did. "See, was that so hard?"   
  
Quebec frowned slightly and removed his hands from the edges of the counter, allowing the state to move about freely again. He walked away a few steps and New York furrowed his brows. "Are you alright…?"  
  
The question was left hanging in the air for a moment before Quebec wrapped his arms around himself, turned his head slightly, and said, "It's not your fault…"  
  
The state cocked his head at that. What wasn't his fault? Quebec sounded so sad…he wasn't planning to break up with him, was he?  
  
"I'm not mad at you or anything," Quebec continued, turning to face New York but averting his eyes, "I just had a bit of an…incident with Ontario before I left." At that, New York frowned, too. He knew that both provinces had rocky pasts that never quite left their minds.   
  
"What happened?"  
  
"It is a long story, and I don't think you would understand most of it—it had to do with the past, and all." New York nodded as Quebec dismissively waved his hand. He wasn't sure he wanted to understand their past. "But it ended somehow with me screaming that…I did not love him anymore, and that I was much happier with you…" he explained, a sad tone in his voice.   
  
New York's mouth fell open slightly—he wanted to say something, but couldn't decide what—and he approached the province. "Well…" he finally choked out, "w-why is that a problem? Isn't it good that you don't have…conflicting feelings?" he suggested, placing a hand on Quebec's shoulder and stroking it in comfort.   
  
"Oui, but that is the problem. It isn't often, but occasionally I  _do_  start feeling like I did back then, that maybe if we tried just one more time…" he trailed off, afraid of where that conversation would lead. "And…I believe he feels the same way, too, on occasion, and I think it scares both of us." Quebec finished, stepping to the side. New York let his hand fall with gravity.   
  
"But that's not what I am worried about most!" Quebec suddenly exclaimed, turning around to finally look New York straight in the face. "Michael, we promised that we would keep this a secret until we felt ready to tell everyone, and I broke my side of the agreement. I feel like I've betrayed you completely!" he finished, turning away once again.   
  
New York's mouth fell open again.  _That's_  what he was upset about? Well, the state couldn't say that he was thrilled, either, but their relationship was more than just one agreement they made. He nodded to himself slightly—that was a good way to describe this.  
  
"Jean, it's not like that is the basis for our relationship. I'm…kind of upset, but that doesn't mean I want you completely avoiding me…" he said, walking up behind the province, but not touching him. Quebec only sighed.   
  
"Perhaps we should sit and talk about this." He suggested, reaching a hand up to close the cupboard door he had left open. New York shrugged.  
  
"If you want to, then that's fine. Let's go to that huge sitting room, hm?"  
  
\-----  
  
The state and province soon discovered that they had little to actually discuss, and that making out was a much better way to pass the time and get reacquainted.   
  
They had eventually ended up with Quebec lying back on one of the couches, New York on top of him. At some point they had both shed their jackets and tossed them elsewhere in the room, but each other's body heat was enough to keep them warm now.   
  
During one of their breaks for air, Quebec nudged the state lightly, prompting New York to get up. He did, only for Quebec to leave the couch completely, walk over to and seat himself on the rug in front of the fireplace. It was one of those bear rugs, a brownish-black one, but it was fake anyway. Had it been real, he was sure that Canada would have thrown a fit.  
  
"I want you, on this rug," Quebec described, rubbing the soft fur of the carpet, "completely naked." New York raised an eyebrow at his lover's bluntness, but then smirked and joined him on the rug. Instead of getting undressed right away, Quebec decided on kissing and teasing the state with fleeting touches before pushing him a bit roughly back on to the carpet, placing his hands on either side of his head.   
  
"Do you have—?" New York murmured, looking up into Quebec's hungry brown eyes.  
  
"But of course," the other interrupted with a grin, pulling a small tube and foil packet out from the pocket of his coat.   
  
"Horny bastard…" New York said, wrapping his arms around Quebec's shoulders and pulling the other down for a kiss.   
  
"Come now, I'm not horny all the time. I'm just  _well prepared_." Quebec insisted, nearly purring his last words as he began popping open the buttons of the state's shirt— that lightly tanned expanse of skin being oh so slowly revealed to him. He smiled and leaned down, kissing New York's collar bone first and then nipping and licking his way down as the buttons revealed more. When his ministrations earned him little gasps and breathy moans, he smirked against his lover's skin and popped open the last button.   
  
Taking a moment to admire the man under him, Quebec sat up and gazed lovingly yet hungrily down at New York. The state was splayed out against the soft fur rug blushing head to toe, his expensive designer coat shed and his shirt completely open. It was quite a sight to behold.   
  
The province could have looked for all his life, but  _other_  needs soon became present.   
  
"Jean…" New York whined, rolling his hips up into the others'. Quebec smirked, chuckling as he reached down to New York's belt. He  _loved_  getting to the state like this.   
  
"I apologize, Michael, I should think about you more."  He said, gazing right into New York's hooded eyes with a smoldering smirk as the soft clinks of a belt and zipper filled the air between them. Soon the state's pants were down to his knees and Quebec was mouthing and nuzzling his hardening cock through the moistening fabric of his boxer-briefs. Desperate for more friction, New York moaned and tried to arch his hips up off the floor, but Quebec easily met him with a firm hand on his hip bone.   
  
"So impatient," and with that the Province hooked a finger in the other man's briefs and dragged them slowly down, letting every centimeter of the fabric rub against New York's erection. A strained groan escaped from his lips. Quebec tutted. "You're always so used to getting what you want right away, aren't you? Always rushing around in your busy city." The state's cock was finally freed and New York gasped as it was revealed to the cool air. Quebec leaned down and pressed a kiss to the tip, allowing some of the precum to gather on his lips before slowly licking it away. Needless to say, the range of noises New York made was quite remarkable. "Allow me to show you how to take things  _slow_..." Quebec finished with a sensual, rough grind of his clothed hips against New York's bare ones, and then began divesting himself of his own clothing.  
  
New York relaxed as Quebec sat up and let his arms fall to the sides of his head, leaving himself completely open to his lover. The province, however, had other ideas as he slowly unbuttoned his own dress shirt, still straddling New York's thighs to pin him in place. With every soft rustle of Quebec's shirt more pale skin was revealed, and the state could not take his eyes off him. The moment the last button was undone on the shirt, New York reached his hands under the now loose fabric and explored the other man's back, pulling him down into a searing kiss before pushing the dress shirt off completely.  
  
There was a pause and silence as the two took a moment to look each other over, only their heavy breath and the crackle of the fire audible. After a moment Quebec reached for his own belt and zipper, taking his time while New York propped himself up on his elbows to watch.  
  
"Are you enjoying this?" Quebec questioned, unzipping the zipper to his jeans as slow as possible and gazing at the other man from under hooded eyes.   
  
"Yes…" hissed the New Yorker, groaning when Quebec  _finally_  propped himself up on his knees and began to wiggle his hips out of those nice,  _tight_  jeans.  "It's not every day I get to see you strip in front of me." He said with a smirk.   
  
"Oh, so this is a strip show now?" said Quebec in a teasing tone, pushing his jeans down onto his thighs. Precious little of those creamy thighs were revealed, much to New York's displeasure.   
  
"It is when you undress like that." He retorted, letting his eyes drink in his lover's tight boxer-briefs. Little was left to the imagination.   
  
"Hmm, well," was all Quebec said at first, hooking his thumbs into the sides of his underwear and pulling them down, revealing more creamy skin and a trail of light blonde hair leading down, down, down, until it became impossible in his current position to pull his pants and undergarments any father off. In one swift movement the province was on his feet and those tight jeans were on the floor, soon followed by his boxer-briefs. "Point taken."   
  
With that Quebec was down on New York's thighs again, straddling him and grinding their cocks together, eliciting a chorus of moans and gasps from the both of them.   
  
"A-ahh! Uh—Jean, please." New York began, and Quebec slowed his movement, interested in what the other had to say. "I—mmmhh—don't think I can last long like this…" he trailed off, biting his lip as Quebec smirked at him.   
  
"This, coming from Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome himself? From the New York?" he feigned a gasp, "I'm surprised…" he teased, grinding against New York once more for good measure. The state looked away, allowing his head to loll to the side in pleasure. Quebec chuckled and leaned down, pressing light kisses all up the side of his lover's jaw bone.   
  
"But really, it's alright. I understand, Michael, it has been a while…" he murmured into New York's ear, pressing another kiss to his temple before sitting up again and reaching for the small tube next to them.   
  
"You're damn right it has…" mumbled New York, looking back to Quebec to see him slicking up his fingers already. Placing his other hand on New York's hip, Quebec positioned his right hand near the other's entrance.  
  
"You ready?" he questioned, pressing a finger against New York rubbing small circles there. He felt a shudder run through the state's body.   
  
"I've been ready since we got here." Quebec chuckled at that and muttered about his lover being so demanding, but then pushed forward, watching New York take in his finger bit by bit. After just an inch or two New York drew in a sharp gasp, his whole body quivering.   
  
"Êtes-tu bien?" Quebec muttered, pausing and leaning down to ghost his lips across New York's furrowed brow.   
  
"Yeah…'s just cold…"   
  
"And it's been a while?" Quebec asked, warm smile gracing his features. New York's eyes fluttered open and he returned the gesture.  
  
"Yeah, it's been way too long." The blonde sealed his lips with a kiss, opening his mouth and letting their tongues and breath mix as he pushed the finger in farther. New York lifted his hands and tangled them in the Québécois' hair, assuring that the other wasn't moving any time soon.  When a second finger was added New York moaned low into his lover's mouth and began pushing back against the appendages.   
  
Quebec thought about teasing the New Yorker about being eager, but that would have meant breaking their kiss, which he was not willing to do any time soon. Also, New York had wiggled one of his hands between their bodies and was rubbing his cock just so…  
  
With a simple flick of his wrist, Quebec suddenly had New York shuddering beneath him. He finally broke their kiss and let the other recover from the sudden wave of pleasure. Within seconds, New York was marginally more relaxed, but still distracted enough that he barely even noticed the third finger enter him.   
  
"You like that?" Quebec muttered huskily in his lover's ear, taking delight in seeing his whole face light up in a blush. He gradually began increasing the pace of his thrusts, hitting that one sweet spot occasionally and drawing more gasps from the one under him.   
  
"Yeah." New York whined, his voice at a higher pitch from the pleasure washing over him. He reached a hand up to cover his mouth, but Quebec quickly grabbed it and moved it away.   
  
"Hey, don't cover up your pretty mouth. Let me hear you completely…"   
  
And New York did, letting out a loud and long moan when his lover struck that spot again before beginning to slow the thrust of his fingers. When Quebec withdrew his hand, the state groaned at the loss of that full feeling.   
  
"Just another minute, hm? I don't want to hurt you." He consoled the man with a pat on his thigh before lifting himself off of New York and pulling the state's pants all the way off his tanned legs. New York's calf-length socks stayed on, and he murmured something unintelligible, to which Quebec raised an eyebrow.  
  
"Quoi?"  
  
"My socks are still on…"  
  
"Does this bother you?"  
  
There was a pause before New York answered, "Does it turn you on?"  
  
Quebec only smiled devilishly and then reached for the tube and foil packet once more. New York watched with clouded eyes as his lover tore open the packet and tossed the foil to the side, slowly sliding the condom down his length. Once he was slick with more lube, Quebec positioned himself at New York's entrance.   
  
No questions were asked, this time, and New York only gave a slight nod before Quebec pushed in. The effect was immediate, and the state tossed his head to the side, scrunching his eyes shut at the mix of pleasure and pain. Quebec brought him back, though, guiding his face up as he began with shallow, slow thrusts. After a few murmurs were exchanged, New York opened his eyes for the province and Quebec groaned in pleasure. He just couldn't get over those blue eyes, sometimes.   
  
Gradually, Quebec's thrusts penetrated deeper and deeper, occasionally hitting the spot that made New York see stars. And the warm, wet heat encasing Quebec was heaven in the cold winter months.  
  
As their pleasure mounted, so did their voices, and soon New York was moaning his name and practically screaming whenever Quebec thrusted particularly hard. Upon meeting the state, years and years ago, Quebec would have never guessed that he would turn out to be such a screamer…  
  
\-----  
  
Lost in their bliss and in each other, Quebec and New York failed to hear America and Canada enter the house, the majority of their states, provinces, and territories in tow.   
  
"Gosh, I haven't been here in years!" America bellowed, dropping his bags by the door and walking in to observe the entrance hallway in his own home, the walls littered with well over a hundred pictures. "It's all still the same, though…" he said, but quieter, as he gazed up at the various pictures. Many were in black and white, and one, perched up high and slightly damaged, dated all the way back to World War I. It was of him and Canada in their new uniforms, finally fighting on the same side again. Just thinking of it brought a smile to his lips.   
  
The others were of them, or his states, or Canada's provinces and territories, or a mixture of both. In some, the people were happy and had wide grins on their faces, laughing from a long forgotten joke, but this was not the case for all. It was a wall of all their lives, not a wall of fake smiles and happiness.   
  
Another older one was of him, Canada, England, and France, after the Allies had liberated Paris and France was finally recovered from captivity. The man looked like hell, but they were together again, so it was a bitter sweet picture.   
  
One nearer to the bottom—a newer one—pictured Michigan, Minnesota, and the Dakotas along with the severely bundled up Florida and Georgia, all smiling on a frozen lake. The northern states had been attempting to teach the southerners how to ice fish, but they did not accomplish much. If he remembered correctly, the picture had been taken moments before Florida fell through the ice. Maybe that's why they were all so happy, because he recalled the day ending in shouting matches between the northerners and southerners, as they so often did.   
  
Glancing to the left he spotted the most recent one, placed there in 2003—the last time he had used this house. It was off to the side because he had run out of room near the bottom, and hadn't felt like finding a ladder to climb higher on the wall. It pictured New York and New Jersey, facing away from the camera, with New Jersey holding his brother's hand— it had been the first time New York had seen Ground Zero after being in the hospital for a week.   
  
Shaking that thought from his head, he glanced behind him to find that his states and Canada's provinces had wandered up behind him, gathering in little groups as they scanned over the wall, pointing and mumbling amongst each other at the various pictures and portraits. Canada moved through them and stood next to him.  
  
"Wow Al…you did all this?" he asked, craning his neck up as he caught sight of some of the older pictures near the top. Most were from wars, he could tell.   
  
"Yep, Virginia helped me a lot though." He said, looking over the many pictures and thinking of each memory that they held. "Did it mostly during the Nineties." He explained, and then turned on his heel to address the states.  
  
"Hey, guys! So, uh, this is my house! New York calls it a mansion, but either's fine. Speaking of him, let's go find him and Quebec, yeah? After that you can all find your rooms." The states and provinces mumbled and began to wander off in their groups, but suddenly, a noise stopped them.   
  
"Ahh!"   
  
America's eyes widened and the hall fell silent. He knew that voice—it was New York, no doubt, and whatever caused the scream must have been very alarming. Because New York  _did not_  scream. The states and provinces turned to him and Canada.   
  
"Uh…" he began, nervous, before grabbing Canada's wrist. "Hey Mattie, let's go check this out, kay? That sounded like it came from the living room…" he trailed off, and pulled Canada towards the source of the noise. "Oh, you guys can follow, too," He called back to the others, but they didn't need an invitation. Oh no, the states, and several of the provinces, were much too nosy to pass up this opportunity.   
  
After leading them down the large entranceway and to the left, another noise ripped through the air. This time, however, it was more of a long, drawn out moan. America's brows furrowed in concern and Canada came up next to him, falling in to step and glancing at his southern neighbor with concern.   
  
"Shit, I hope he's not hurt. What a way to start out the holidays…" America grumbled to Canada, who only nodded. They turned another corner—right this time—and came to a hallway with a set of large doors at the end. Another shout filled the air.   
  
"Jean!"   
  
America gasped, but at least his suspicions of the state being in the sitting room had been right. New York must have hurt himself and had been calling for Quebec to come help him! He began jogging and called back to the state.  
  
"New York?"   
  
\-----  
  
With Quebec rocking in to his lover so hard that the state had been nudged back on the carpet, neither was aware of anything but the other. New York's ever increasing vocals had mixed with Quebec's, but the noise level didn't matter anymore. They were together and that nice, warm feeling was pooling in their stomachs and the pressure was mounting, mounting,  _mounting_  —  
  
"New York?"  
  
New York raised an eyebrow at that. Looking up to Quebec, it seemed as if the province didn't find anything amiss.   
  
"Did you just call me by my state name?" he asked, the last word drifting into a moan. Quebec looked confused for a moment, but then leaned down to kiss and lap at the state's neck.   
  
"No, why would I?"   
  
"Never mind…hey, don't leave marks too high…" he mumbled, shivering as Quebec licked the spot he had just bitten, smirking up at New York, and moved lower.   
  
A loud slamming sound made both the males jump, and they snapped their heads to the right, where the main doors were to the room.   
  
Had New York been standing, he imagined that he would have fainted right then and there. Not only were his father and Quebec's father standing  _right there_ , but nearly all the states and provinces were behind them. Including Massachusetts, who was right at the front, her mouth wide open and anger forming on her features.   
  
He was never going to live this down.  
  
Meanwhile, Quebec found Ontario in the crowd and locked gazes with him, the two just staring at each other for a moment, waiting for the other to give. Eventually, Ontario raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms, shifting his weight to one side. Quebec only smirked and looked back to his father, ignoring the province from then on.  
  
As his father's and uncle's eyes widened and their jaws dropped, New York clawed at the rug, trying to pull up something,  _anything_  that he could cover himself with, but to no avail. Quebec, however, reached for New York's previously shed jacket and draped it across their lower halves. With his decency somewhat intact, New York crossed his arms over his now burning face with a sigh.  
  
"Hey, dad." He grumbled, attempting to even out his breathing and compose himself. It wasn't working.   
  
"Don't 'Hey' me, what the hell are you doing?" America half shouted, not exactly sure how to react. Couldn't they at least have gone to a bedroom?   
  
"The hell does it look like?" New York shouted back, uncovering his face and angling his torso towards the door. Both the men scowled at each other for a moment, but then America caved and sighed heavily.   
  
"Okay, fine, I know what you're doing. That, at least, is obvious." He said, giving his son a disapproving look, "But, uh…" he trailed off. What did someone say in a situation like this? He glanced to his side briefly to find his states in various moods—Massachusetts in particular looked as if she was going to blow a blood vessel. He scrambled for something to say, hoping to diffuse the tension before his states did…well who knows what they would do, but he didn't want it to happen. So, he asked the first thing that came to mind.  
  
"Why Quebec?"  
  
New York's eyebrows shot up and he cocked his head sharply while Quebec just scowled and lowered his body more over New York's. Canada, standing beside him and equally surprised, was also taken aback by the question, smacking America upside the head in retaliation.  
  
"What, Al, is there a problem with one of my provinces being with one of your states?" he questioned, his arms crossed and eyes blazing at him from behind his glasses. America gulped, unsure who to look at among the three who were now upset with him. Maybe that hadn't been the right thing to say…  
  
"Yeah, why did you choose Quebec, Mikey? He have something we don't?" came the angry voice of Massachusetts. New York rolled his eyes and addressed her.  
  
"Mandy, frankly that's none of your business. I can choose whoever I wish to be my…my partner. It doesn't matter who it is." He explained with a cold look. America winced—there were going to be a lot of hurt feelings to deal with later.   
  
Massachusetts gasped, as if the other state had slapped her, but then huffed in frustration. "Fine! Go sleep around and fuck guys if you want, see how much I care!" she shouted, and then turned right around and stormed through the crowd of states and provinces.   
  
"Massachusetts!" America shouted, turning to watch her leave. She did not acknowledge him, but he did not give chase either. Really, he didn't care if she swore normally, but it was really uncalled for to swear like that in front of his younger states and Canada's even younger territories. He watched her until she turned the corner and disappeared from sight, and then turned back to the scene before him, sighing. He really didn't know what to do.  
  
"Oi." Quebec said sharply, drawing everyone's attention. New York had crossed his arms back over his face, still extremely embarrassed due to the majority of the continent being present. Canada and America looked to the province, waiting for him to continue.   
  
"I think I speak for all of us when I say that no one wanted this to happen." He began, looking to the various faces gazing back at him, "But the truth is that Michael and I are together. We have been for a while now." There was no visible reaction from the two nations, but the states and provinces whispered amongst themselves briefly. "So, he and I would appreciate if you all left the room and allowed us to recompose ourselves." Quebec finished, uncharacteristically serious. New York was surprised he had kept a straight face.   
  
While the states and provinces continued to cast glances at them and whisper to each other, America and Canada exchanged glances. No words were said, but America shrugged and Canada nodded before turning back to the pair.   
  
"Sounds fair." Canada said, "But after this we're all going to talk." America nodded resolutely beside him. Quebec nudged New York's arm aside for a moment to look at him before they, too, nodded.   
  
At their confirmation, America turned and began herding the states and provinces out of the room.   
  
"Okay, guys, come on, get outta' here." He said, raising his arms as if they would block the scene before them. While some, including Ontario—Quebec stared at his retreating back until he couldn't see him any more—, willingly turned and left, others were not so eager. "Florida, stop trying to shove to the front! There's nothing to see here…"  
  
While America battled off their siblings, Quebec and New York looked back to each other, privacy finally somewhat restored. Quebec couldn't resist his lips turning up the slightest bit.   
  
"Are you alright?" he asked gently, swiping some of New York's dark hair off of his forehead. It had previously stuck there with sweat, but now the moisture was cooling.   
  
"No." New York said firmly, face set in his ever present scowl, but then his voice withered. "I'm cold…" The province only chuckled and reached for his own jacket—a bit farther away, but still in reach—and draped it over the state's chest.   
  
"Better?"   
  
Soon enough, the states and provinces had dispersed and America was pulling one of the doors shut. Canada followed suit, still looking at the couple, and hesitated before closing the door.   
  
"Jean, I hope you're wearing a condom." He stated dryly.   
  
The smile that had been on Quebec's face turned into something that reminded New York all too much of France as he rolled his eyes, turning to his father. "Of course I am." He assured, and Canada shut the door, finally leaving the two alone once more.   
  
There was a beat of silence before either of them spoke, and Quebec took that moment to reflect. He had to admit, he was a bit embarrassed. He certainly didn't want anyone walking in on him and his lover, but, to him, it was not a big deal. He only wished he could have finished before they did.   
  
That reminded him, then, of his arousal. He was still positioned deep within New York and desperately wanted to finish what had been started.   
  
"Michael?" he tried, tentatively. The state looked distant, as if he, too, was trying to process what had just happened, and the consequences of it. Slightly delayed, New York looked to Quebec in question. "I hope you are planning on continuing this with me."  
  
The state hesitated, averting his eyes, but then answered. "I do want to…it's just...embarrassing…."   
  
"I hope that you don't mean that you find me embarrassing, because I certainly don't feel that way about you." Quebec stated, pushing himself a bit farther away from his lover.   
  
"No! No, I didn't mean it like that. I'm just worried that all the other states will—"  
  
"Will be very jealous of you for having such a beautiful man as a boyfriend?" Quebec said, confident smirk on his face. He raised an eyebrow at the state, and soon enough New York gave a small smile back.   
  
"Fine…" he murmured, pulling the province down for a kiss. With the meeting of their lips the awkwardness melted away, and within a minute Quebec had pushed the jacket back off of New York's chest and their hands were roaming again.   
  
"If we're going to continue with this, cher, you must relax. You're quite tense." Quebec said when they broke the kiss for air. Realizing what he meant, New York's face darkened in a blush.   
  
"I, ah, I don't know how…" The state murmured, voice just above a whisper. Quebec leaned down and nuzzled the other man's neck.   
  
"Well, I'll just have to assist you, then," was all the warning New York had before Quebec reached down and began palming his cock. New York's hand shot up to muffle the moan that escaped his mouth.  
  
"What did I say about covering your mouth? It would be more enjoyable for both of us if you didn't." purred Quebec as he increased the speed of his strokes. Between gasps, New York managed to say something about the others hearing them again, but Quebec shook his head. "So what if they do? Let them—let them know how much you enjoy this…"   
  
And New York did, gasping and moaning just as he did before, though perhaps a bit more restrained. Quebec noticed, but did not comment, glad that the state was relaxing, at least. When the province began thrusting again New York did not last long, arching his back off the floor, tense, and moaning his lover's name as he came. New York's orgasm led into Quebec's, and the province released moaning 'Michael...'  
  
Afterwards, they laid on top of each other for a few minutes, basking in the afterglow with the warmth from the fire nearby and from each other's bodies. Eventually, however, New York mumbled that they should get up and redress before one of their siblings walked in. Quebec nodded against his lover's chest, and pushed his torso up slightly before capturing New York's lips one last time in a slow, sensual kiss. After all the awkwardness and difficult times they had faced when they first got together, New York was grateful for kisses like these. Not hunger or wanting—just love.    
  
Finally, much to both of their displeasure, they separated and began to gather their clothing. Quebec slipped off the condom first, though, tied it off, and threw it in a small trashcan nearby. He was sure that that would traumatize whoever saw it next. While he was up he tugged a few tissues out of a box on one of the small tables that littered the room and crouched down near New York, wiping the cooling liquid off of his stomach.   
  
Now York smiled at him in thanks, and the two redressed completely. As they exited the room, Quebec grabbed the state's hand. He smiled when New York did not pull away, and the two proceeded to find their fathers in the large house.   
  
\-----  
  
The rest of the holiday spent in America's mansion was relatively normal and calm, or as calm as a house full of sixty-five people could be. A total of five hams were devoured at their Christmas dinner and no one even bothered to keep count of the pies. Every one of the states or provinces or territories knew of how New York and Quebec were walked in on by the end of the first day, and if asked about it they just replied that, yes, they were together, but neither would admit for how long. This frustrated some of the more nosy personifications—and secretly, all of them—but neither state nor province would budge.   
  
The first few days were awkward for New York and Massachusetts, but when Massachusetts shoved a box wrapped in Red Sox patterned wrapping paper into New York's hands on Christmas morning, the other state just smiled and gave her a box covered in similarly patterned Yankees wrapping paper, and they called it even.   
  
Late one night, one of the last nights that the group would stay in the house, America stayed up and brought a box full of picture frames and photos to the small table in the kitchen, made himself a mug of hot chocolate, and set to work. More than an hour later, Canada entered in his pajamas, his feet silenced by fuzzy socks. America glanced up at the other nation as he crossed the tiled kitchen floor and slid in next to him, nabbing his mug for a quick sip before looking at all of the things spread out on the table.   
  
"What'cha doing up so late?" the Canadian asked, propping his head up on his hand as America sifted through a stack of pictures.   
  
"Looking through all these…" he said, waving a hand to the dozens and dozens of pictures stacked up all around him. "I'm trying to find a few that I want to put up on that wall. I haven't been here since 2003 and a lot has happened since then, so…" he trailed off, placing the stack he had in his hands down and reaching for a picture he had set aside.   
  
"What do you think of this one? I really like it…" America asked, holding a picture up to Canada. The northern nation took it and looked over it in the dim light. It pictured a whole group of nations, all smiling tiredly at the camera. Some were wearing the rescue uniforms of their countries while others were just in plain clothes. He and America were at the front, their blonde hair turned nearly brown from the filth that covered them. He flipped over the picture briefly, finding it dated as 09-05-2005.   
  
"Hey, I remember this." Canada said, flipping the picture back over to look closer at the group. "This was when we all flew in to help you with Katrina, right?"  
  
"Yep." America gave him a half smile. "A few days after you flew in, in fact. Remember that I couldn't even get out of bed until the 3rd? This was on the 5th, so I was up and helping out with the rest of you." he said, lifting another stack of photos to look through. Canada examined the photo again. England and his brothers, France, Germany, and basically all of Europe, the Nordics, Japan, China…even some of the Middle Eastern nations had given help to America during those weeks and months.  
  
"I think it's a very nice picture." Canada said, setting it back down on the table. America hummed in response, and Canada grabbed a picture frame that looked to be the right size and placed the photo inside.   
  
The two stayed there for another hour, looking at photo after photo and laughing at the memories they brought or speaking softly if a sad scene was pictured. By two in the morning the mug of hot chocolate was gone and they had selected three pictures in total.   
  
The first was the one of all the nations in the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina. They both agreed that it was rare to see so many of them together and not fighting.   
  
The second was of America and his newest President on the night of his inauguration. The shot was taken through a crowd, so dark silhouettes lined the edges of the picture. He and the President were waltzing on the dance floor, the President leading, and they were both smiling brightly at each other. America hadn't even known about the picture until months after it was taken.   
  
The final one was of England and America together at Westminster Abbey in 2003. That year had been the 400th anniversary of Queen Elizabeth I's death, and England had been depressed for days leading up to the ceremony that was to take place on the 24th of March. The day before the ceremony, America had shown up with a countless number of red and white roses, along with a bouquet of flowers directly from the fields of Virginia. England had taken the bouquet and then latched on to America for all that he was worth, sobbing into his bomber jacket in thanks.   
  
The three photos were placed in appropriate frames and the rest of the pictures put back in the box. As the two nations sat shoulder to shoulder looking at the chosen pictures, America spoke up.  
  
"Something's missing." He said plainly, before reaching for the box and dragging it back in front of him. He tossed off the top and began sifting through only the most recent photos he had taken. Canada was a bit exasperated that the other wanted to stay up and look through more photos, but didn't say anything.   
  
"What is?"  
  
"I don't know…I want something new with the states up there. Or some of your provinces. I feel like I never have enough…" Canada chuckled at the other nation's determination and crossed his arms on the table, pillowing his head on them before shutting his eyes. If America wanted to stay up then that was fine—he wanted some sleep.   
  
While his northern neighbor rested America tossed aside pictures that he didn't like or ones that he had already seen. After just a few minutes, he came upon one that had been taken just a few days before, by one of the states. He sat back in his chair and stared at it for a long while, and then poked Canada and held the picture up to his face.   
  
"Do you like this one?" The Canadian blinked the sleep out of his eyes and squinted for a moment, then giggled when he finally realized what the picture was of.   
  
"Yeah, it's cute." America nodded, searching for a good sized frame for the picture. They left the box on the kitchen table and, after hanging up the four photos on hooks that America had put in the wall earlier, finally retired to their own bedroom.   
  
The next day, all of the states and provinces woke to find, along with the other three new photos, a picture on the wall of Quebec holding New York's hand, and the two kissing under a sprig of mistletoe.

**Author's Note:**

> QuebecxNew York seems kind of like a crack pairing, but New York and Quebec are actually very involved with each other, trade wise. New York is also Quebec's largest trading partner (so there’s my excuse to write this, haha).  
> Another semi-important factoid- New York and Massachusetts were together sometime before this, but are now broken up. But MA still kind of cares for him. Also, Ontario and Quebec were once lovers, but are now pretty much the opposite. 
> 
> Historical notes for the pictures!
> 
> -1st picture mentioned-Canada and America were (somewhat) allies in WWI, and that was pretty much the first time they had worked together since before the American Revolution. 
> 
> -2nd-The Allies liberated Paris from Nazi control in 1944. Going along with what most of the fandom seems to believe, France was held by Germany during the occupation, and Canada, America, and England rescued him.
> 
> -The third one (about ice fishing) was just made up.
> 
> -4th-Again, going along with what most of the fandom thinks, New York was hospitalized after 9/11, so he didn't see any of the first few days after the attack. NJ is his brother, so he's there for comfort.
> 
> Later on in the story, America and Canada pick 3 pictures...
> 
> -1st-After Hurricane Katrina in 2005, over 80 nations gave some sort of help to America in terms of money, personnel, or supplies. 
> 
> -2nd-President Obama and America together for one of the first times. As the story said, they were dancing together at the Inauguration Party for President Obama. Inspired by a fill on the kink meme.
> 
> -3rd-Queen Elizabeth I never married a man and was, instead, "married to her country" or "married to England". Also, many in the fandom believe that England and Elizabeth would have had a very close relationship. She died in 1603, and I imagine it is very hard to commemorate the 400th anniversary of someone's death. And yes, an American actually did donate a ton of roses and a bouquet of flowers from Virginia for the ceremony (Virginia was named after the Queen).


End file.
